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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957649">New Depths and New Information</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira'>Kalira</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Snuggles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(in-universe and so-to-speak), Asexual Character, Asexual Senju Tobirama, Asexual Uchiha Madara, Asexuality, Asexuality 101, Banter, Community: trope_bingo, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explanations, Hugs, Loneliness, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sad Uchiha Madara, Serious Discussions, Sexual Identity, Touch-Starved, Trope Bingo Round 14, Uchiha Madara Needs a Hug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:56:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Miserably lonely with his brother out of the village and refusing to return, Madara takes to spending his evenings numbing that ache with sake. Giving in to his brother's pushing and pouting, Tobirama winds up taking responsibility for getting the Uchiha clan head home safely - for himself and others - on those nights, even when it means submitting to his unexpectedly needy clinging. Even if that clinging isn't entirely unpleasant. . .</p><p>Carefully warning Madara off attempting anything further opens the door for revelations Tobirama never could have expected, and reassurance he never would have sought that his feelings, his desires - and the lack thereof - are not only entirely natural, they aren't unique to him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Snuggles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808911</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>396</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Trope Bingo Round 14, Trope Bingo: Round Fourteen</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>New Depths and New Information</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoiLungfish/gifts">KoiLungfish</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the 'In Vino Veritas/Drunk Fic' space on my <a href="https://kalira.dreamwidth.org/24550.html">Trope Bingo board</a>! This was also the first thing I started writing for Trope Bingo in January, and the final story I am posting for it (having blacked out my board with 25 stories) just before the deadline tomorrow!</p><p>Written in answer to a request from Koi, who has offered much-appreciated inspiration, help, and problem-solving for so very many stories and plots. 🖤 (This story is part 1 of probably-4.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tobirama sighed, hesitating as he approached the bar where he knew he could find Madara - his chakra, loose and light with intoxication, was a <i>beacon</i> inside to Tobirama’s senses.</p><p>“Oh Tobi can’t you <i>please</i> go get him,” Tobirama muttered to himself as he started walking again, scowling, “I <i>would</i> but I <i>can’t</i>, Tobi don’t leave him there alone he’ll drink all night and then-” Tobirama huffed, cutting himself off. As though Madara weren’t a grown man perfectly capable of hauling himself out of a bar. Or suffering the consequences if he did not.</p><p>Nevertheless, Tobirama had promised his brother, however ridiculous.</p><p>He went inside and hid a wince as he made directly for Madara, sitting alone in a corner.</p><p>“Madara.” Tobirama said, but Madara only tipped his head back, emptying his cup, and did not so much as glance his way. “Madara!”</p><p>Tobirama didn’t expect a reaction this time, and he was already stepping forwards, moving a few bottles out of the way before he reached out. He rested a hand on Madara’s shoulder. “Madara?”</p><p>He had been about to ask if Madara was all right, because he might have thought his brother’s request was ridiculous but it was clear Madara was <i>not</i> his usual self; before he could voice his question Madara startled under his touch, jerking sideways to look at him and leaning into his hand with a strangled <i>keen</i>. Tobirama froze, fingers tightening on Madara’s shoulder.</p><p>Adjusting quickly, Tobirama dropped his hand with a murmured apology Madara probably couldn’t hear in here even now he was paying attention. Madara slid towards him, fingers curling into Tobirama’s shirt before he could step away.</p><p>“Ah. . . Madara?” Tobirama questioned, and was startled when Madara’s free hand slid up over his back.</p><p>“Warm.” Madara said, and while Tobirama couldn’t see his face very well - his wild fringe blocked it from this angle - he thought Madara’s eyes were closed. “You feel nice.”</p><p>Tobirama’s eyes widened and he tugged hurriedly away from Madara’s grip. “<i>No</i>, no I don’t.” he said, and realised how nonsensical it was when Madara looked up at him with a furrowed brow. “It isn’t my kind of- Never mind.” He was trying to excuse himself to Madara when the man was drunk enough to blatantly make an advance to <i>him</i>; this was pointless. “Come on, Anija asked me to make sure you get home tonight.”</p><p>Madara looked suddenly downcast, so much so that Tobirama moved closer again without thinking. He frowned, looking down at Madara.</p><p>“I think you’ve probably had enough already.” Tobirama suggested, delicately picking up one of the sake bottles, then putting it down again with a faint clink.</p><p>“Alone.” Madara said softly, slouching. Tobirama didn’t catch the rest of what he said as he sank lower, his own voice too quiet and the noise of the other patrons too loud.</p><p>“What?” Tobirama questioned, leaning close, hand on Madara’s shoulder.</p><p>Madara shuddered. “Alone at home. Always, now. Izuna left, and. . .”</p><p>Tobirama sighed. It was a struggle to listen to Madara here. “Have you paid?” he asked, and Madara made a confused sound, looking up at him. “Paid?” Tobirama repeated, lifting a bottle and tilting it illustratively.</p><p>Madara nodded, and Tobirama grabbed hold of him with one hand, shaping a seal with the other. He took them to a park not far from the Uchiha compound, and Madara collapsed - Tobirama had taken him from a chair and <i>not</i> directly to a bench that would have taken its place - then lunged to his feet, retching.</p><p>Tobirama winced. “I am sorry.” he offered as Madara rested one hand on his stomach and one over his mouth.</p><p>Madara shook his head. “’sfine.” he said, though he shuddered before he let his hands fall. He hadn’t actually been sick, at least.</p><p>“I forget,” Tobirama said as he stepped closer, “how the hiraishin can take people who aren’t used to it.” And being drunk had probably been no help on that score. “Are you all right?”</p><p>Madara nodded, raising a hand to rub the back across his mouth.</p><p>“Then let’s get you home.” Tobirama said patiently; drunken Madara was, at least, proving both quieter and more manageable than drunken Hashirama.</p><p>Madara promptly proved him wrong by making a sad, plaintive sound and moving further away. Tobirama swiftly followed him and caught his arm, and froze when Madara slouched against him, mumbling against his shoulder. He fought down the impulse to shove Madara off, knowing in this state he was likely to hit the ground.</p><p>“What about Izuna?” Tobirama asked, a touch sharply.</p><p>“All ‘lone at home without Izuna. . . No one else. . .” Madara almost whined. He sniffled pathetically and Tobirama’s eyes widened. The Uchiha clan head was <i>not</i> crying on him.</p><p>Tobirama shifted, trying to get Madara to let go and stand on his own, and while it took longer than he would have liked, he did at least confirm that Madara <i>wasn’t</i> crying, despite the soft sad noises he was making. Tobirama sighed, bracing himself, and took hold of Madara firmly, pushing him away and upright, supporting him.</p><p>“You need to go home.” Tobirama said slowly and clearly. “You need to sleep this off.” He paused. “Things will look better when you’re not drunk or hungover.” he offered gently.</p><p>Madara whined, but when Tobirama tugged at him he moved obligingly enough, and they headed for the Uchiha compound through the <i>blessedly</i> empty streets. Fortunately Tobirama knew where the clan head’s house was, because he wasn’t sure Madara would have been willing to pay enough attention to direct him.</p><p>Along the way Madara mumbled in varyingly coherent sentences about missing his brother and being all alone with Izuna gone. Tobirama knew Izuna would return, but. . .</p><p>Well, he <i>should</i> return, he was expected to. But he had also left almost before the ink was dry on the accords forming Konohagakure, still displeased and distrustful. Tobirama was aware he had fought with his brother again before leaving, and he had not set foot anywhere near the village since ground was broken to begin building it.</p><p>Tobirama paused before taking Madara up into his own home, extending his senses, wondering if there were any other Uchiha inside who might take his intrusive presence badly . . . anyone to whom he could pass off Madara. There was not, and Tobirama frowned slightly as he pulled Madara up to the door and prompted him to get them inside.</p><p>Madara whined softly but didn’t resist as Tobirama directed him through the house with gentle nudges, feeling out where he was going as they went. Finding the kitchen, Tobirama poured him a glass of water and was grateful when he didn’t protest drinking it. When Madara collapsed onto the couch in the main room. . .</p><p>Well, Tobirama didn’t <i>really</i> want to try and put him to bed, anyway. He went to get a second glass of water for Madara and only just suppressed a flinch when he returned and Madara <i>grabbed him</i> and. . .</p><p>Madara just held on, snug but not fierce, warm. Leaning against Tobirama without sitting up on the couch, curled up with his knees bent.</p><p>“Madara.” Tobirama said softly, unable to bring himself to speak more sharply. Something about Madara’s expression. . .</p><p>“Mmm?” Madara drew out the soft sound, nestling his temple against Tobirama’s stomach just under his ribs and shifting his hand where it rested just above Tobirama’s hip, arm wrapped around him.</p><p>Tobirama lifted his free hand towards Madara, then paused. He dropped it to Madara’s shoulder, squeezing gently, and he made a soft mewling noise, gripping Tobirama a little tighter. <i>Hugging</i> Tobirama a little tighter. It still wasn’t uncomfortable, only warm and snug. And he wasn’t. . .</p><p>He was just holding on, <i>snuggling</i> into Tobirama.</p><p>“Madara. You should drink some more water before you pass out.” Tobirama reminded gently.</p><p>Madara protested in soft whines, but he acquiesced much more easily than Hashirama ever did, and he thanked Tobirama when he handed the glass back, surprising him. Tobirama reached out and touched Madara’s shoulder. “I was only. . . You’re welcome.” he amended, dropping his hand. “You should rest.”</p><p>Madara sighed, reaching for Tobirama again, and he stepped back. Madara made a tiny plaintive sound, then turned away as he sank down on the couch once more, leaving Tobirama faced with his broad shoulders and wild hair.</p><p>Tobirama frowned, eyeing his position. “You should turn this way.” he said, tugging at Madara. He resisted only for a few moments before he rolled over, pushing into Tobirama’s hands. Tobirama hummed and nudged him until he was on his right side and resting against the back of the couch, making him less likely to roll over. Hopefully he wouldn’t be sick, but if he <i>was</i>, at least he shouldn’t choke.</p><p>When Tobirama straightened to step away he realised that Madara’s fingers had wound through his sash, clinging. He frowned. “. . .Madara?”</p><p>Madara curled up a little more, ducking his head until his long fringe fell across his face. Tobirama sighed, but didn’t try to fix it for him. So be it, if he threw up in his own hair.</p><p>“. . .what was that?” Tobirama prompted, bending a little to get closer, because that had been a very quiet, slurred mumble.</p><p>“Don’t want to be alone.” Madara said, and tugged weakly at Tobirama’s sash.</p><p>Tobirama stilled, spine straightening sharply, and disengaged his hand abruptly. “You’ll be fine.” he assured Madara briskly, return his hand to the couch just in front of him. “I’ll lock up on the way out and won’t expect to see you in the Tower until your first meeting at ten tomorrow.”</p><p>Madara wriggled and began to push himself up, and Tobirama held up a hand, palm out flat. “Just . . . sleep it off, Madara. You wouldn’t want-”</p><p>Madara wouldn’t want this any more than Tobirama did, if he wasn’t <i>very</i> drunk.</p><p>Madara made a pitiful sound but stopped trying to get up, fingers curling as he let his hand rest lax before him, and Tobirama shook his head, hurrying out. It wasn’t until he had closed up and activated the hiraishin once more, this time pulling upon the seal just inside the door of his own home, that he remembered he’d meant to check for painkillers and leave Madara more water.</p><p>Tobirama shuddered at an old memory of hands tugging his sash open and sliding over his skin inside his clothes as they loosened, looking for- No. Madara was a grown man, he could <i>definitely</i> fend for himself so far as Tobirama had left him. He would be fine, and Tobirama had more than discharged any responsibility he had reluctantly accepted from his brother.</p><p>It wasn’t until Tobirama was unwinding his sash to prepare for a bath and bed that he thought over it once more, and. . . Madara’s tug hadn’t been at the knot, and hadn’t been rough like the frustrated pulls of a man too drunk to figure <i>out</i> the knot. He’d just . . . pulled.</p><p>As he had pulled at Tobirama’s arm, and around his waist, hands not wandering or. . .</p><p>Tobirama sighed, feeling a twinge of guilt for his sudden sharpness with Madara. Kami knew the man wouldn’t have clung to him sober, but he <i>had</i> just been clinging, Tobirama thought, not truly making any kind of advance. He’d been far less trouble than Tobirama had expected, really - and <i>so</i> much easier than Tobirama’s brother in a similar state.</p><p>He sighed, sinking into the bath and closing his eyes.</p>
<hr/><p>The next time Hashirama wheedled and begged for Tobirama to accept the responsibility of hauling Madara out of his chosen bar and making sure he got home safely, Tobirama thought about that relative ease and agreed with a little less resistance.</p><p>A few weeks later - Madara really did this too often, Tobirama thought with a frown, though it was hardly <i>his</i> problem - Hashirama wasn’t asking any more, and it had become . . . habit. Tobirama had delicately questioned Hashirama about it and apparently this was new. Slightly less delicate questions to Madara - who was very open with Tobirama when he was drunk anyway - had led Tobirama to gather that Madara was . . . lonely. Especially for his brother, but that he was often alone in general.</p><p>And lonely enough to be pleased - even when sober, surprisingly - with <i>Tobirama’s</i> company.</p><p>Hashirama would happily spend as much time with Madara as he would allow, responsibilities as Hokage aside - and probably ignored - but Tobirama couldn’t exactly blame him for not taking that option. And Hashirama wasn’t . . . exactly comforting company, always, his focus often elsewhere no matter how affectionate he was.</p><p>Tobirama nodded at the bartender as he made his way across to Madara. He rested a hand on Madara’s shoulder, and felt a surprising little warmth in his chest when Madara looked up and smiled immediately upon seeing him.</p><p>Madara rose without protest or indeed prompting, and they made their way outside together, walking towards the Uchiha compound rather than using the hiraishin. Madara was more comfortable with it now, but hiraishin while drunk was less than comfortable regardless of one’s familiarity with it, and Madara seemed to enjoy their late night walks.</p><p>Tobirama couldn’t say he minded either; this part of Konohagakure, once they moved away from the bar, was quiet and peaceful, and Madara was decent company even if he was drunk.</p><p>Madara was laughing as they made it up the stairs to his door, and Tobirama smiled back, a little surprised, still, by how . . . <i>fond</i> he felt of Madara like this. Madara stumbled as he tried to gesture, open the door, walk inside, and keep laughing all at once, and Tobirama caught him, though he <i>probably</i> wouldn’t have fallen.</p><p>Madara gave Tobirama a wide smile and then bent to try and get his sandals off. Tobirama shook his head and steadied Madara while he tried, then shooed him off carefully to the bathroom.</p><p>Tobirama kept his senses tuned towards Madara as he got water and painkillers and Madara’s favourite light blanket, bringing them back to the couch, then going to meet Madara as he stepped out of the bathroom in a yukata he was still struggling to tie closed. Tobirama frowned, but nudged his hands away after a moment and did it himself.</p><p>Madara slouched against the wall and let him, eyes mostly closed.</p><p>Tobirama clasped his arm and he smiled without opening them any further, trailing Tobirama easily back to the couch, which was still the best option if he was going to be sleeping off his drunk alone. Madara sank down onto it and kept one hand hooked in Tobirama’s sash even as he accepted the water Tobirama handed him.</p><p>Tobirama didn’t dislodge his hand, watching him, and wasn’t too surprised when he took the glass back only to have Madara wrap both arms around him, head tucking down against his chest. “Madara. . .”</p><p>“You feel nice.” Madara said, a sentiment he expressed not infrequently on these nights, in one form or another. He cuddled against Tobirama a little more, arms comfortably snug around his waist. Tobirama put the glass down and paused with his hands raised. If he put them down, Madara was in the way, and he would be resting his hands <i>on</i> Madara. Not that Madara would mind, he was aware.</p><p>Tobirama sighed and gingerly let his hands rest on Madara’s shoulders, which pulled a soft sort of high-pitched hum from him. Tobirama was quiet as they remained there for a short time, before he eventually nudged Madara gently to lie down, murmuring that he needed to rest. Madara sighed with visible regret and slowly turned Tobirama loose, fingers trailing over his ribs and waist before Madara’s hand fell away.</p><p>Tobirama pressed his lips together, shaking his head. He nudged Madara again and pulled the blanket over him, not thinking about the path Madara’s hand had taken - it hadn’t even dipped below the level of his sash - so much as the cosy warmth of his embrace.</p><p>“Oyasumi, Madara.” Tobirama said softly, and Madara sighed, fingers peeking from the edge of the blanket even as Tobirama stepped away.</p><p>“Wish you’d stay.” he said very quietly, tugging his empty hand back under the blanket.</p><p>Tobirama felt an uncomfortable tingle midway up his spine. He didn’t pause, letting himself out, raising the ward jutsu which Madara had unexpectedly taught him - one day while <i>sober</i> - and then. . .</p><p>He reached for a marker at home, taking himself straight to his own bedroom.</p>
<hr/><p>Tobirama hesitated just once before he headed down the hall and tapped on Madara’s office door. Most of the Tower was empty; it was a lighter work day and wearing on into the afternoon.</p><p>And Tobirama expected that tonight he’d be tugging Madara out of the bar again, drunk - though he’d mercifully laid off a little; he drank with more moderation than Hashirama, but his brother’s habits on that front were mostly Mito’s problem these days - and-</p><p>Drunk and <i>clingy</i>, hands wandering as he smiled at Tobirama with the familiar guarded look long fled from his dark eyes. As he had been so many nights in Tobirama’s company of late.</p><p>Tobirama stomach squirmed unpleasantly as he stepped into Madara’s office and it perhaps made his speech a little more curt than he’d intended.</p><p>“Madara, I need to discuss something with you.” Tobirama said firmly, and Madara looked up, brows arched.</p><p>“So I gathered.” Madara said dryly, flipping his brush lightly in his fingers.</p><p>“Something unrelated to the village.” Tobirama clarified, and Madara frowned slightly, nodding. “I am <i>not</i> interested in having sex with you.” he added swiftly, voice a little sharp.</p><p>“. . .<i>what.</i>” Madara said blankly.</p><p>“I’ve . . . grown used to you,” Tobirama gestured, “and I don’t actually mind being the one to make sure you get home safely when you’re drunk, but even when you are <i>not</i> drunk I have no interest in-”</p><p>“Why the hell are you telling me this?” Madara said, voice a little louder. “What even made you <i>think</i> of this?”</p><p>Tobirama frowned. “Because I anticipate,” he said sharply, “that you’re going to get drunk again tonight, and I will come and stop you and walk you home to settle you in for the night, and you will, no doubt, be all over me tonight as you have been every time I do this.”</p><p>“What, do I <i>grope</i> you?” Madara said, mouth twisting with what might have been distaste.</p><p>Tobirama paused. “No.” he said, inclining his head. “You do get very . . . clingy and rather grabby.” He swallowed and didn’t mention the times Madara had practically begged him to stay.</p><p>“Well, I apologise,” Madara said stiffly, “if I have made you . . . uncomfortable. I will stop,” he paused, sagging a bit, “though you may need to remind me, when I’m drunk.” he admitted. Tobirama nodded. “If it’s too much for you, or it <i>bothers</i> you. . . I’m not your responsibility.”</p><p>“I don’t mind.” Tobirama said, which was, surprisingly, honest - he wouldn’t have imagined that would be possible, a few months ago. “I only needed you to know. . . Whatever your aims, and I don’t imagine,” he added wryly, “you would have the same impulses when sober, I’m . . . not interested in having sex with you. In any circumstances.”</p>
<hr/><p>“I’m not interested in having sex with you, either.” Madara said bluntly, eyeing Tobirama and trying not to be irritated - on one level the disinterest was a relief from someone he had grown close to, on another. . . “I’m not interested in having sex with <i>anyone</i>, ever, so you don’t have to worry about me forgetting your disinterest when I’m drunk, either.”</p><p>Tobirama faltered as he began to speak, eyes wide. “That’s an <i>option</i>? I mean- You can. . .”</p><p>“Yes, it’s a damned-” Madara stopped himself as he saw the raw look in Tobirama’s eyes. “Oh.” he breathed. Oh fuck. “Yes, Tobirama, that’s,” he fought to keep the disgust off his face and out of his voice, “an <i>option</i>. Some people have no desire for sexual contact with anyone at all. Including myself.” He fought down the spike of unease that came with admitting it to someone new. “It’s nothing strange, only less common.”</p><p>“What?” Tobirama said, his voice thin, a tone Madara had never heard from him.</p><p>Madara gave in to impulse and moved from behind his desk towards Tobirama. They’d gotten to be . . . not quite friends, perhaps, but something like it, in the past weeks - more - and he could <i>see</i> Tobirama reeling, hurting, and . . . and he wanted to help. Madara touched his arm and when he didn’t flinch or tense, gripped his shoulder.</p><p>“Whatever you may have been told . . . or thought,” Madara said carefully, “it is entirely natural for someone to have no interest in or desire for sexual contact with anyone else. Or themselves, for that matter.” he added wryly. “Just as much as the reverse.”</p><p>“But I. . .” Tobirama flushed faintly, and Madara reined himself in for a moment.</p><p>“Did my touching you make you uncomfortable, or was it only the thought that I wanted something sexual from you that did?” Madara asked, and Tobirama shook his head, brows drawn together.</p><p>“No, you. . . You were fine, you don’t even hurt when you touch me. It was only. . .” Tobirama gestured aimlessly as Madara stuck on <i>don’t even hurt</i> with some confusion, eyes narrowing. “Others. . . Everyone always- Well.”</p><p>Madara curled an arm behind Tobirama’s back and drew him in gently. “Is this all right?”</p><p>Tobirama made a half-stifled noise, but nodded, and he still hadn’t tensed, going so far as to lean just a touch closer to Madara, though he wasn’t sure if it was a conscious decision or not. Madara hugged him gently. “I won’t tell you that no one should ever press you on that, because you’re a grown man and a shinobi and you know that,” Madara raised an eyebrow; it went unsaid he also knew how to <i>deal with that</i>, “but no one should ever tell you that what you want - or don’t - or how you feel is <i>wrong</i> or untrue, or needs correction, either.”</p><p>Tobirama made a worryingly choked little sound and Madara reflexively held him tighter. “It’s also all right,” Madara said, wildly hoping it was not the wrong thing to offer, “to enjoy being touched or held, <i>which shouldn’t hurt</i>,” what the hell had that even been about, “with no expectation of more intimacy, sexual or not, as friends or . . . or romantically.”</p><p>That had taken a little longer to work out in Madara’s mind, and caused him more problems besides; for his own view he had found every bit of the romantic love an Uchiha heart could hold in himself as well . . . even if he had yet to find anyone who would accept the love he had to offer and not wish for something different, something supposedly ‘more’. He hugged Tobirama a little more firmly again, feeling a protective spike as he thought of the difficulties he’d had in the past - and suddenly remembering, in a vague fog, the way Tobirama had stiffened or put Madara’s hands away from him a few times, late evenings mostly in his own home, after Tobirama had walked him there. He frowned.</p><p>“Not that you’re exactly shy,” Madara ventured with dry caution, “but much as it’s all right to enjoy being touched or held like this, it is <i>also</i>-”</p><p>“You’ll know if I want you to let go of me, Madara.” Tobirama returned just as dryly, a spark in his eyes, and Madara relaxed a bit, with a soft laugh.</p><p>Tobirama began to lean into him, and Madara felt knuckles brush his hip-</p><p>Then Tobirama stepped away, drawing himself up - he was barely taller than Madara, but for a moment it felt like more - and tilting his head curiously as he met Madara’s gaze. There was a similarly curious but half guarded look in his eyes.</p><p>“You don’t ever . . . desire anyone?” Tobirama asked, and cleared his throat. “I apologise, that is-”</p><p>“No. Not sexually.” Madara said, and gave him a crooked smile. “I did invite the personal question, don’t worry about it.”</p><p>“Not sexually? Then. . .” Tobirama looked confused, and Madara suddenly had a new reason to want to find Butsuma’s grave, wherever his sons had buried him, the bastard, and dig him up to kick him. Or set him on fire. Madara hadn’t thought there could <i>possibly</i> be any more reasons he could discover at this point. The surprise was not a pleasing one. “What. . .”</p><p>“Personally I have no desire for a sexual relationship or sexual contact and I never have.  I do not expect I ever <i>will</i>. Sexual desire and romantic desire do not have to go hand in hand, though they often <i>do</i>, for many people.” Madara said carefully. “A romantic relationship does not have to include a sexual component. For someone who feels as I do,” and <i>you</i> do, Madara thought, <i>suspected</i>, “it never would.”</p><p>“Oh.” Tobirama said, looking a little overwhelmed. “Then. . . But-” He frowned.</p><p>“People want - and have - sex without wanting a romantic attachment frequently, do they not?” Madara said, teasing at Tobirama’s logical nature, and Tobirama blinked, then nodded slowly. “Is it so strange that the reverse should also be true?”</p><p>“No, that . . . is quite sensible.” Tobirama acknowledged, and Madara smiled. “Most people,” he ventured, “who do so, however, they do still seem to wish for . . . a romantic entanglement as well, if not with every partner they take.”</p><p>His nose wrinkled a little and Madara fought not to think it was adorable.</p><p>“Some do. And some people have romantic relationships without a sexual component, even if they at another time have one with both . . . right?” Madara said leadingly, and Tobirama’s expression cleared again. “People are complicated. Sometimes what we want changes - we desire different things from different people or at different times in our lives.” He shifted his weight and leaned against his desk. “And sometimes it doesn’t.”</p><p>“As with you.” Tobirama said, not quite a question.</p><p>“As with me, in this case, yes.” Madara nodded slightly. He watched Tobirama walk along the shelves at one side of his office, occasionally opening his mouth, then closing it again. “You can ask me any questions you would like to,” Madara said, then paused, “now or at any time.” he added gently.</p><p>Tobirama startled, looking up at him, then smiled, small and soft. It was a smile Madara never would have imagined on his face before they had begun to spend more time together, and even then not until perhaps the past few weeks. “Thank you, Madara.”</p><p>“Of course.” Madara nodded, clearing his throat.</p><p>Tobirama took his leave without asking much more, but Madara expected he would come back once he had taken some time to think. Not today, perhaps - and probably, hopefully, not in Madara’s office - but Tobirama was too thoughtful and too <i>thorough</i> not to keep questioning, Madara thought.</p><p>Madara was rather distracted the rest of the day in the office, thoughts lingering on Tobirama - the conversation they’d had, which he never would have expected; the things Tobirama’s reactions had implied; just . . . <i>him</i>. Madara was grateful not to be interrupted by anyone else as he worked slowly to complete the rest of his duties for the day before he could head out - and home. Even if it were alone.</p><p>Madara felt a pang of loss for his brother, who still hadn’t returned or offered any further promise that he would than his initial dismissive words before leaving, and the dull ache that made him contemplate going home by way of his favourite bar again.</p>
<hr/><p>Madara’s brows rose as he left his tea and went to answer the door. “Tobirama. Hello. I didn’t expect to see you tonight; is there something you need?”</p><p>“I didn’t expect you to be at home tonight.” Tobirama said cautiously, and Madara winced. He had, perhaps, come . . . too easily to rely on drinking to dull the ache of missing his brother - of missing having anyone, to be close, to take comfort in - and then. . .</p><p>Well, when he was drunk there was someone looking after him, being warm and present and indulging his need for contact. It had made it a more tempting option. Perhaps only more so as he and Tobirama had grown a little more friendly, beyond the care he offered when Madara was drunk, though Madara had been drinking less on his nights out lately as well.</p><p>“May I. . .” Tobirama paused, and Madara stepped back.</p><p>“Come in.” he invited quietly. “Would you like to talk?”</p><p>Tobirama relaxed as he accepted the invitation, and Madara went to the kitchen to retrieve his tea along with the pot and a fresh cup for his guest, meeting Tobirama in the main room. He looked awkward, as Madara had never seen him when here . . . but his memories of Tobirama in his home were all a bit soft-edged with some combination of alcohol and sleepiness.</p><p>“Tea?” Madara offered, settling on the couch, and Tobirama nodded, following suit. He accepted the cup of tea and cradled it in his hands. “More questions?” Madara asked gently.</p><p>Tobirama looked up at him with a wry smile. “More questions. I’m sorry to trouble you.”</p><p>“You aren’t.” Madara told him immediately. Madara tilted his head. “And I more than owe you, even if you were.” he added lightly.</p><p>Tobirama laughed, folding one leg up beneath himself on the couch and leaning back comfortably, relaxing a little with the assurance. He sipped his tea, then began asking questions.</p><p>He had clearly been contemplating this since they spoke, Madara thought as he answered analytical curiosity about sexual desire and romantic attraction and where they interlocked and diverged. It was . . . strange to be talking about these things again, as he so rarely did - and perhaps never to someone who had delved into it with such fierce focus and depth as Tobirama.</p><p>Not that it was a particular surprise he had, Madara thought as he took a sip of tea, watching Tobirama as his face shifted through a series of thoughtful expressions. Tobirama was passionate about understanding things, when he was interested, and this. . .</p><p>Madara focused again as Tobirama began to speak, then stopped before voicing anything understandable. He raised his eyebrows, and Tobirama smiled weakly, the expression dropping again almost immediately. “And you’re . . . not interested in me, sexually or romantically.” Tobirama said slowly, watching Madara.</p><p>Madara opened his mouth and fought not to flinch as his own thoughts raced. “I’m not interested in anyone sexually. I never have been and I honestly do not see that changing, ever.” he said easily enough.</p><p>Tobirama nodded, but his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. He was entirely too sharp to miss such a blatant sign as what Madara had <i>failed</i> to say, and Madara had known it when he chose his words.</p><p>Madara took a breath. “I won’t lie to you, though. Now that we’ve gotten to know one another better,” and Tobirama had been so <i>close</i> with him; offering, or at least allowing, the warmth and contact that Madara had never quite realised he so desperately <i>wanted</i>, needed until Izuna left and took away the only personal closeness Madara had, “I <i>do</i> find you romantically attractive.”</p><p>Tobirama’s eyes widened, and he inspected Madara carefully, but didn’t draw away. “I. . . What . . . would you want from me, then?”</p><p>Madara reached for him, and Tobirama didn’t flinch, letting Madara claim his hand and squeeze it briefly. Madara appreciated the trust it showed and didn’t keep hold of his hand. “Nothing, Tobirama.”</p><p>Tobirama made a soft sound as he withdrew his hand, frowning.</p><p>“Nothing right now.” Madara qualified gently. “Not until this,” he gestured, “is not so new to you, and you’ve had time to think about what <i>you</i> might want - if you want anything at all; from me, or anyone.”</p><p>Tobirama hummed, nodding shallowly as his expression eased. “Oh. That is . . . sensible, yes. And kind.” He looked at Madara through his lashes, and Madara’s heart twinged.</p><p>“Not something of which I am often accused.” Madara said, clearing his throat.</p><p>“Few people know you well enough, I suspect.” Tobirama said, then smirked. “Although clearly well enough to see how <i>insensible</i> Uchiha can be.” He arched a brow as Madara sputtered, his amusement shimmering in his eyes; it was a gentle jibe, not a true insult.</p><p>“Dratted Senju!”</p><p>“Emotional Uchiha.” Tobirama said dryly, and shook his head. “I apologise.”</p><p>Madara snorted. “You’re fine.” he said, lips twitching. He reached for the pot of tea - their second of the evening - and refilled their cups.</p><p>“Madara.” Tobirama said, and he hummed as he put the tea pot back down. “What. . . What might a relationship . . . of that kind . . . look like? What would it entail?” he asked, and Madara looked up, stilling. “Not with you, or,” he paused and Madara fought the sudden tight ache in his heart; oh, he <i>was</i> in trouble, how had he not seen this coming, “not necessarily. Just . . . in the general sense.”</p><p>Madara hummed, trying to frame the question and how best to respond.</p><p>“How else am I to know what <i>I</i> might want, than to know what. . .” Tobirama gestured vaguely, then hurriedly took another sip of his tea.</p><p>That. . . Madara sighed. That was fair, more than. And he should have expected it. “Of course.” he said quickly as Tobirama looked up at him again. He paused, shifting. “I . . . haven’t exactly had much applied experience myself.” he warned gently.</p><p>Tobirama eyed him with some surprise. “I’m a Clan Head.” Madara said, lip curling with distaste as he remembered- “I’ve had more fights with the elders over how I owe them an heir than I’ve had potential for relationships that I would actually . . . want.”</p><p>“Oh.” Tobirama said, and tucked his legs in a little more. “And you-”</p><p>“I have no intention of settling for a partner who wants things I do not, <i>or</i>- or <i>siring an heir</i> on someone, partner or no, to make the elders - or anyone else - happy.” Madara said, perhaps a little more fiercely than intended. Tobirama smiled at him, fingers brushing over his wrist, and Madara’s breath caught.</p><p>“I wasn’t implying you should.” Tobirama said softly, and Madara nodded.</p><p>“I get. . . I do not like it.” Madara said by way of explanation, understating hugely, and Tobirama seemed to guess that he was, from the half-stifled laugh. “But, what you asked was not about that.” he said wryly. “You know it <i>is</i> up to you, what you want, what you would like.”</p><p>Tobirama tipped his tea cup a little and Madara nodded.</p><p>“It might look like,” Madara’s throat tightened and he forced himself to take an emotional step back, “<i>emotionally</i>-”</p><p>“I know what a romantic relationship entails.” Tobirama said, with a little pout. Madara eyed him, trying not to react to the adorable expression. He huffed, flicking his fingers a little before cradling the cup more securely between his hands again. “A partnership. Trust and affection and <i>care</i>,” he sighed a little, leaning into the couch and refolding his legs, “openness. Devotion. Understanding.”</p><p>It might not, Madara thought faintly as Tobirama expanded a little on the theme, be what all romantic relationships were, but . . . it showed what Tobirama wanted of one. It was also very much aligned with what <i>Madara</i> wanted.</p><p>“Physically,” Madara said without comment, throat a little tight, and Tobirama focused on him immediately, “it could look like the same kind of contact one might share with a friend, in addition to the emotional partnership,” he raised an eyebrow, “it could look like . . . hugs and caresses.”</p><p>“Which one does you clinging to me fall under?” Tobirama asked and Madara flushed.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Madara said softly. He hesitated, then forced it out. “I miss my brother.” He raised his eyes to meet Tobirama’s. “I love my clan, but I’m . . . <i>close</i> with no one else. Being alone. . . My brother was the only one to,” he paused, “<i>allow</i> such closeness, to welcome it. Closeness. Contact. I miss it.” he said thinly.</p><p>“It’s all right, Madara. I didn’t mean to. . .” Tobirama reached out again, the lightest brush of fingertips over Madara’s hand, and he caught his breath.</p><p>Madara smiled at Tobirama, shaking his head dismissively.</p><p>“How much contact you want and what kinds depends entirely upon you.” Madara continued firmly, looking at his tea. “That could include touching hands, hugs, caresses, cuddling, kisses . . . or kisses anywhere but the mouth. Caresses but only in certain places, or <i>not</i> in certain places. It looks like whatever you are comfortable with, whatever . . . pleases you. Feels good. Some people don’t like to touch at all.”</p><p>Tobirama made a soft little sound of negation and Madara smiled. “It’s not <i>my</i> preference,” he cleared his throat, “as you are no doubt well aware. But it is something that some people prefer.”</p><p>Tobirama nodded, and put down his empty tea cup. He didn’t refill it, and Madara sipped his own - it was growing cool - then put it aside without finishing it off. “Any kind of intimacy or contact or . . . <i>care</i> could be part of a relationship if it is what you want - what both partners want.” Madara’s breath hitched as he imagined-</p><p>“Cuddling together to relax, or to sleep. Trading long kisses. Brushing and petting hair.” Madara said, gesturing.</p><p>Tobirama nodded again, but questioned him further, and Madara smiled at him encouragingly. They discussed boundaries and intimacy for a while and Madara had settled in comfortably enough that he didn’t startle outwardly when Tobirama reached out and moved <i>closer</i>. His eyes widened as Tobirama touched his ribs. “Madara. . . May I-”</p><p>Madara pursed his lips and opened his arms a little, a gentle invitation he was more surprised than not to have accepted. Tobirama slid into his arms and Madara’s breath caught as he pressed close, lean and warm and . . . <i>wanting</i> Madara’s embrace.</p><p>Madara wrapped his arms around Tobirama, shifting them together and-</p><p>Tobirama’s breath hitched, his body jerking against Madara. He stroked Tobirama’s back almost before he realised Tobirama was breathing shakily, trembling a little . . . trying not to <i>cry</i>? Madara held him tighter and said nothing, tugging him in close and rubbing his back, humming softly.</p><p>Hopefully it was soothing, and it also covered the slight sounds Tobirama didn’t seem to be able to keep from letting slip. Tobirama sagged in his arms and Madara let his hand slide higher, stroking gently at the nape of Tobirama’s neck.</p><p>He twitched at the touch there, breath catching, and Madara stilled, but Tobirama only cuddled into him a little more. Madara swallowed - probably he shouldn’t do this - and petted gently, stroking Tobirama’s hair and down over his neck again, resting his cheek against the top of Tobirama’s head.</p><p>Tobirama grew heavier in his arms, and Madara held him snugly, fingers running through his soft hair. He felt. . .</p><p>Madara sighed, nuzzling into Tobirama’s hair and hugging him a little tighter, just for a moment. Tobirama was lean and <i>solid</i> and warm, and he felt wonderful, so relaxed and easy in Madara’s arms. Madara ran a hand down his back. “Tobirama.” he murmured, lifting his head, trailing his fingers back up Tobirama’s spine. “At least get more comfortable before you sleep.” he suggested, smiling slightly.</p><p>Sliding sideways and beginning to stir, Tobirama hummed softly, his face untroubled and his gorgeous eyes still hidden; he was close enough that Madara could see his eyelashes like frost against his pale skin. There were the faintest signs of dried tears caught in them, increasing the likeness.</p><p>“Tobirama.” Madara said again. “Let me get you a pillow and a blanket, then you can lie down, ne?”</p><p>Tobirama opened his eyes, a bit hazy even as he lifted his head, shoulders rolling. Madara’s smiled widened and he found himself unable to drag his gaze away from Tobirama’s rich ruby eyes as they sharpened. “Ah- Oh, I can- My apologies.” he said, pulling away, and Madara let Tobirama go without letting the reluctance he felt show.</p><p>“No need to apologise.” Madara said, squeezing his shoulder, then rising, stretching as he climbed to his feet. “It’s been a long day.” He glanced back at Tobirama and didn’t mention that it had also been probably a rather tiring, emotional evening, at least - or particularly - for Tobirama. “I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket, and you can sleep here tonight.” he suggested again. “All right?”</p><p>Tobirama protested that it wasn’t necessary, but he relaxed when Madara reminded him it was the least he deserved from Madara, and assured him it was hardly an imposition.</p><p>It wasn’t long before Madara was sitting on the table where their teacups had been, blanket tugged over Tobirama’s broad shoulders and fingers once more testing the softness of his hair. He gave a soft sound very like a purr, and otherwise didn’t stir save for his deep, slow breathing, even as Madara stroked his hair lightly, then down to let his hand rest on Tobirama’s spine just beneath his nape. Madara sat there for a moment, then swallowed thickly, forcing himself to rise and head to his own bed. Alone.</p><p>Madara couldn’t help but imagine Tobirama snug in his arms, warm against his side - as he had been on Madara’s couch, trusting and close, but sharing his futon instead. Close at his side as they slept. He sighed wistfully as he settled in for the night himself, fingers flexing against the soft kakebuton, mind on Tobirama - the feel of him in Madara’s embrace, the sharply curious look in his lovely eyes, the low thrum of his voice, the half-hesitant words that had made Madara’s heart leap with the thought that Tobirama wanted. . .</p><p>Tobirama’s words played through Madara’s mind along with that thoughtful look in his eyes and the unreasonably adorable pout that had curved his lips. Tobirama loosely intimating what he might want, or hinting at it by his responses - physical warmth and closeness, care; Tobirama blatantly describing a partnership built upon devotion and understanding, a relationship that invited - was built upon - the sharing of hearts and minds.</p><p>Madara’s fingers curled, pulling a fold of the kakebuton into his palm though he was remembering wild white hair twined between his fingers instead. He sighed, shifting a little, mind fixed on the man asleep out there on his couch, throat tight.</p><p>
  <i>Nothing. Nothing right now, not until you’ve had time to consider. . . To want. . .</i>
</p><p>It had been the right thing, and it was true - Madara didn’t want an impulsive declaration, or to drag Tobirama into anything. But. . . <i>Oh</i>, how <i>Madara</i> wanted, with a depth he had rarely felt in his wants before, his heart aching with a spark of hope he would never have foreseen.</p>
<hr/><p>Tobirama had been embarrassed to realise he had <i>fallen asleep</i> practically on Madara’s shoulder - embarrassed and <i>shocked</i>; Tobirama trusted Madara but he didn’t even fall asleep so easily in his brother’s company - but Madara’s easy smile and gentle nudging to remain here for the night’s rest had eased his mind.</p><p>Tobirama was worn out, far more than he would have expected of the day, and his mind was whirling with new information - new possibilities. Perhaps, Tobirama thought, getting comfortable mostly on his side on Madara’s couch - it was quite comfortable, but then Tobirama supposed he would want it to be, since he spent so many nights on it himself - that was why he was so tired. The day had been long, but hardly longer than he was accustomed to; the discussion with Madara and the new paths offered to his mind now, however. . .</p><p>He felt uneasy and giddy, hopeful as he had never contemplated before, curious and-</p><p>Tobirama shivered slightly at the feeling of a warm hand brushing through his hair, as it had been when he woke. Madara was gentle and - for all his clingily drunken embraces - he was unassuming in his touches, the contact he initiated light and not uncomfortable. In any sense.</p><p>Of course it wasn’t, Tobirama thought sleepily as Madara’s hand stroked the nape of his neck, sending a shivery feeling down his spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, though he would have expected it to be. Madara had told him, with fierce distaste, precisely how unwanted <i>he</i> found the same advances - offers, expectations - Tobirama was so discomfited by.</p><p>He sighed as Madara’s hand slipped away, dozily extending his senses to follow the banked warmth of Madara’s chakra through the house. He was calm and his chakra had grown even more deeply familiar recently, warm and strong but not overwhelming, not a towering force - not when he wasn’t in a fury, at least.</p><p>Only . . . warm and strong, as Madara was in general, Tobirama thought, remembering the feeling of being all but cradled against his chest, held in a snug but gentle embrace, woken by soft caresses and softer words.</p><p><i>It could look like touching hands</i>, Tobirama remembered in Madara’s voice along with the feel of Madara’s strong hands trailing over his back and sides, <i>or shared caresses</i>.</p><p>It could look like strong fingers winding through wild hair and kneading tense muscles, Tobirama thought unbidden, and curled a little more onto his side. He sighed wistfully, sliding one hand up over his own shoulder, fingertips just brushing the nape of his neck where Madara’s hand had rested.</p><p>Madara’s hands were strong - no one would guess otherwise - and warm, but not only gentle, they were . . . soft on his skin. The gloves he wore so much of the time, particularly in battle, must shield them, Tobirama thought sleepily, mind drifting to thoughts of those hands cupping his face, smoothing over his skin. Holding him close.</p><p>Thoughts soft-edged with sleep and led by the curious, open conversation that had consumed his evening, Tobirama wondered what other things would be like. Kisses, perhaps - kisses from Madara’s oft-scowling mouth. Kisses that didn’t try to lead into - to demand - more, whether they were shared between lips or pressed to bared skin elsewhere.</p><p>Tobirama had been kissed before, but he had never particularly enjoyed it, too tense as he either extricated himself from another or fought to resist the impulse to do so. He had never thought there might be another way for it to be - one that he might actually find welcome.</p><p>Tobirama wistfully considered those things he had always faintly wished for - a partner, warmth and care, a life shared and not only with his overbearing brother and his students but with- with . . . <i>someone</i>, someone close and devoted first to himself, accepting that in return - along with those things Tobirama had never thought he <i>could</i> share with another, would wish to, having never wanted the things assumed to follow.</p><p>Madara had opened a door of possibilities to him that Tobirama had never known existed, and he had many new things to think about. He couldn’t . . . quite . . . muster surprise that his thoughts kept circling back to Madara, all warmth and comfort, promising. . .</p><p>Sleep crept over Tobirama and he shifted lazily, almost feeling Madara’s arms around him once more.</p>
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